


Aligned with a Kiss

by dragonmage27



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 17:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8588047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonmage27/pseuds/dragonmage27
Summary: Why have one first kiss when you can have five.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dawnofthursday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnofthursday/gifts).



 

_As strangers_

Damen let out a deep sigh as he just narrowly avoided being splashed by a car that raced through a puddle and sent water soaring through the air. It had not been an easy week for him. He just left the hospital after visiting Nikandros, who broke his foot in a particularly rough game of rugby. His friend had sent him out because “you need a drink my friend. If you can sneak one back to me that would be great, too.”

On top of his best friend’s injury, Damen had just gotten laid off. Fresh out of college, he had found an amazing job at a public relations firm, only to be let go just short of one year with no good reason besides, “Sorry we’re overstaffed and we need you to empty your desk by noon.”

Now Damen was meeting up with an old college friend who would introduce Damen to someone who might be able to help him, having contacts in the PR world. Damen double-checked the address of the restaurant on his phone before walking in. A quick scan of the restaurant and bar didn’t reveal his friend, but there was someone else who stopped him mid-step.

Jokaste was sitting at one of the tables with her friends, some whom he had met over the years on their Sunday brunch dates. She stopped mid-chat and locked eyes with him. _Please don’t get up_ , Damen thought. Of course she got up.

She walked towards him and Damen couldn’t do it. On top of everything else going on, running into his ex-girlfriend of five years was not something he could handle right now.

In a panic of outrageous thoughts, Damen scanned the bar for one person who was sitting alone. With more audaciousness than Damen thought he possessed, he strode up to a young man and slid an arm around his waist.

The younger man jerked back in shock and Damen sidled up close, whispering frantic and quick, “Please! I-I would  never do this normally but my ex-girlfriend of five years, who had been sleeping with my brother the whole time and is now engaged to him, is right behind us. Could you please pretend to know me so she doesn’t think I’m any more pathetic than I already am?”

The man turned to face him and Damen was startled by the man’s looks. He had noticed the blonde hair when he came into the room, but the man was beautiful, with high cheekbones and piercing blue eyes. He was almost comically familiar in appearance to Jokaste. In the back of his head, Damen could hear Nikandros say, _your love of blondes will get you in trouble one day._

At that, Damen realized exactly how idiotic this spontaneous move was. It could go wrong in every way, either the man public rejecting him, or even joining Jokaste in her ridicule. There was only one scenario where Damen could get out of this with his self-esteem intact and based on the cool look in the younger man’s eyes, it didn’t seem that likely. He didn’t have enough luck for that.

But then the man’s eyes softened, and he slid off his chair to wrap one arm around Damen’s waist, completing their hug. His other hand reached up to curl around the back of Damen’s head to pull him down towards him. Right before he pulled them together into a kiss, the man murmured, “You owe me a drink for this.”

The kiss was chaste, and short. Their lips just pressed together with minimal movement but Damen couldn’t stop his stomach from tightening up. The man’s lips were soft, and he smelled delightfully like bergamot and sandalwood.

Damen felt the other man begin to pull away and Damen opened his eyes—when had he closed them? Then over the man's shoulder, Damen saw Jokaste still standing beside them, watching with an indecipherable face. With a surge of spite, Damen tightened his hold on the man’s waist and brought him closer again. _A little longer_ , he mentally pleaded against lips that had stiffened up.

The young man let out a small breath against Damen’s lips and to Damen’s surprise opened his mouth, to deepen the kiss. He fisted the back of Damen’s shirt tightly and with shy hesitance, moved so his tongue swept across Damen’s lower lip.

With the man’s permission, Damen deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the younger man’s mouth, their lips locked into place. One of Damen’s hands had found its way to the back of the man’s head, playing with soft strands of blonde hair.

Finally, when they pulled apart, both were breathing a little more heavily, and the younger man had the most adorable blush on his pale cheeks. Damen knew he would be buying more than just a drink for this angel, who had come for him in his time of need.

Damen turned to look if his ex was still there, but Jokaste was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his old college friend was staring at him with a look of immense horror.

Auguste whimpered with confusion, “Damen, why did you have your tongue down my little brother’s throat?”

 

 

_As acquaintances_

Laurent tore down the speedway in his Maserati, all the while frowning at the voice coming from his speakers. “I don’t need your help, Auguste.”

“Listen, Laurent, this doesn’t have to be anything serious. You just need a date to the wedding so Uncle doesn’t whisper to Father about how immature you are. Just to shut him up and pretend to our relatives that you have more than just a stable career but a caring partner as well.” Auguste only made Laurent’s mood worse by bringing up their uncle. “I have a friend, I can set you up with him.”

“I’m not going on a _blind date_ , Auguste!” Laurent scoffed and pressed the gas a little harder in a fit of childishness. Lucky for him, it was the dead of night and the highway was completely empty.

Which suddenly became less empty when a piercing siren rang out, and flashing red and blue lights appeared behind him. “Fuck, fucking damn it,” Laurent cursed. He slowed down and began signaling to move to the right lane.

“Laurent? Is everything okay?” Auguste was worried.

“I have to go. Just got pulled over. I’ll call you back if I need you to contact our lawyer.”

“Be careful,” was what Auguste said before Laurent hung up the call. He stopped the car and the police pulled up behind him.

He waited until the cop walked up to his car with a flashlight and knocked on his window. “License and registration,” said the policewoman. “This is a pretty nice car. Do you know why we pulled you over?”

Laurent rolled his eyes as he reached into his glove compartment for his papers. “Probably because you have nothing better to do,” he muttered.

“ _Excuse me_.” The woman narrowed her eyes, and Laurent noticed that she looked remarkably like him, from the blonde hair to the pale skin. And apparently the same short temper that Auguste always called him out for. _You’re not clear-headed when you’re angry. It’ll get you into trouble one day_.

“Nothing. Ma’am,” Laurent added in afterthought. A moment later, he realized she might have taken the pause as mockery. And of course she did.

“Get out of the car with your hands above your head.” Her voice was cold. “I have reason to believe that you have something suspicious on your person or in the car.” Talking into her to transceiver, she said, “Damen, get out here.”

Laurent got out of the car just as a huge man emerged from the police car behind him. The man walked towards them in silhouette, with the light of the police car blacking out any detail besides his huge size. Turns out the officer had an attack dog.

“What’s the problem, Jokaste?” The man, Damen, approached cautiously, his hand close to his hip where he was carrying a gun.

“Mouthing off apparently,” Laurent couldn’t stop himself from saying. The big man raised his eyebrows. Laurent bit the inside of his mouth. He was gorgeous, with curly hair and bulging muscles that made his uniform look ever more imposing.

The female cop, Jokaste, bristled. “I think he has something on him. Go search him.” The sneer on her face was unattractive.

The large cop looked at Laurent and Laurent didn’t miss the way his eyes gave him a quick sweep from head to toe. The officer said wryly to his partner, “Yes, he definitely looks threatening.”

This time Laurent bristled. Just because the man was some giant animal didn’t mean he got to insult Laurent for his—quite average, thank you—size. Before Laurent could say anything, the man turned to Laurent and said, “Sir, I’m going to need you to face the car with your hands on the hood.”

Laurent turned around because he knew when to shut up, and it was when he had a large man standing behind him with a gun in the middle of the night. Laurent was chilled by the night air, missing the heat from his car. When he put his hands up on top of his car, the man stepped closer until they were only a foot apart. He was large enough to block out most of the wind and Laurent suppressed a shiver.

“I’m sorry for my partner. She’s in a mood. But we do have to assess the situation for risk if there is any suspicion at all. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the trouble,” the man, _Damen,_ Laurent repeated in his head, said before he started putting his hands on him.

His hands were huge. And warm. Laurent couldn’t suppress the shudder this time, and Damen’s hands, which had moved from his shoulders to his waist, paused. The heat seeped from his hands through Laurent’s clothing.

“You’re cold,” he remarked.

“It’s fine,” Laurent gritted out. He didn’t like people touching him, not even Auguste on most occasions, but Laurent couldn’t explain the warmth that was flooding his body despite the chilling air. Trapped between his car and this man, he should be more scared.

“I’ll be quick,” Damen promised. He smoothed his large palms down the flat planes of Laurent’s chest, and then abdomen.  As he moved downwards, Laurent swallowed hard.

Damen continued his search, his hands were efficient and professional, but Laurent couldn’t help but flush at the thought of this large and unfairly attractive man ordering him to hold still as he touched him all over. Laurent did his best to stay a frozen statue when Damen’s large hands were able to entirely wrap around his thigh and course downwards. And then the other leg.

When Damen stood back up to speak, his voice was loud, as if the man’s mouth was right behind his ear. Laurent shivered again. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience. You can go, we won’t write you a ticket.” His voice, though still as gentle, was lower-pitched than before. It appeared Laurent wasn’t the only one affected.

“Alright, we’re done. I didn’t find anything,” he called out to his partner. “Let it go, Jokaste,” when it seemed like she might have objected to dropping it. She let out a huff and walked back to their car.

“So I can go?” Laurent internally winced when his voice didn’t seem as confident as he would like. But he forced his face to stay cool and impassive. The flush on his facing was already fading.

Damen maintained eye contact with him, and for it moment it looked like he was going to say something else, but then he just gave Laurent a soft smile and said professionally, “Yes. Please get home safe and just keep the speed down.”

Laurent got back into his car while Damen returned to his police vehicle and the officers drove off. Laurent stared at the fading lights of their car and ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach. It took a few more moments before he started up his car again and called Auguste.

-

The following night Laurent lowered his book at the sound of his _late_ blind date throwing himself into the seat across from him while stammering apologies, only to look straight into the face of an equally stunned Damen. The officer paused mid-apology and just stared.

Laurent sighed, carefully noted the page in his book and stood up. Damen watched him stand up and Laurent could see the disappointment appear on his face. He was too easy to read.

Laurent leaned across their table and grabbed Damen by his burgundy tie. It was a slow pull that dragged Damen up towards him and the man himself got up willingly to follow the movement. Damen’s movement was less graceful with his lumbering body—which Laurent noticed filled out the white dress shirt quite nicely—and he jostled the table and silverware. From the corner of his eye, Laurent noticed a concerned waiter start to walk over. He ignored him.

“I’ve been meaning to do this since yesterday,” Laurent confessed, now that Damen’s face was closer to his, both of them leaning over the table, Laurent’s hand still loosely gripping the other man’s tie. “You’ve already felt me up, so this feels appropriate.” Laurent simultaneously leaned forward and pulled Damen to close up those last few inches, until their lips were aligned into a kiss.

It didn’t take Damen that long to get over the shock. He stabilized himself by grabbing the table with one hand, and used the other to caress the side of Laurent’s face. His large hand was as warm as it was last night. Damen deepened the kiss with a fervor that contrasted his light touch.

Damen smelled like his aftershave, fresh pine and spice. His coarse beard tickled against Laurent’s soft skin and when Damen gave him a gentle bite on his lower bite that sent a rush of heat surging through Laurent, he knew he had made the right call.

When they released each other, the considerate wait staff had made themselves scarce, and they both sat back down. “So I’m guessing you won’t be arresting me for assault,” Laurent observed.

Damen leaned against the back of his seat, casual and confident. He smirked, “I can cuff you for something else if you’d prefer.”

 

 

_As friends_

“I don’t understand why you’re not getting this. Damen, you’re getting a PhD in sociology. This is simple statistics. With fun examples about pigeon breeding and bacteria growth.” Laurent rubbed his face, he was using teaching materials from the undergraduate biostatistics class he TA-ed for because he was too busy as a PhD candidate in the biomedical sciences to come up with new material.

They were both graduate students at Delpha University, one in the social sciences building and one at the medical school. It should have been an unlikely friendship, but there was an incident concerning a microwave that brought them together.

Damen was six years older, having taken a few years off to help run his family’s business until he realized he much preferred a life in academia. Laurent was introverted and private and spent more time talking to his specimens than his fellow colleagues, but something about Damen and his warm brown eyes and eager smiles made Laurent open up. It wasn’t rare to find them sitting beneath the trees on the Quad having lunch together, or saving each other coveted spots in the campus coffee shop.

Most recently though, they could be found in the graduate library because Damen has having trouble in his required statistics course and Laurent had offered to tutor. But Laurent was beginning to lose his patience.

Damen was gazing at him, his eyes were on Laurent and not the papers. “Damen!” Laurent scolded again.

Damen jerked his eyes back on the paper, murmuring a quick apology. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Laurent sighed, “Perhaps we should stop for tonight, then? I should go take a look at my cells before the count tomorrow. And you have more grading, don’t you?” He began to pack up his stuff. “What kept you up last night?”

“I was thinking about something.” Damen gave him a wry smile. “Do you know when you have something good going, and you’re scared that if you do something different, it might change everything? There might be a good—an amazing—outcome, but you could lose everything you already have.”

Laurent frowned at the vagueness of his answer. “Yes, of course.”

“Would you do anything then? In that case.”

Laurent paused in closing up his bag. “That’s the essence of research, isn’t it? If everything is stasis, then you’re doing something wrong or not doing enough. If all my cells are growing great, I’ll need to do something to challenge them.”

Damen smiled. “Alright. I understand.”

Laurent gave him another cursory look before standing up. “Let’s see if we can find some books to help you for stats before we go to my lab?” Damen had become accustomed to grading in Laurent’s lab. He said the vent from the cell culture hood and the whirring of the centrifuge was good white noise.

Damen followed Laurent into the stacks, dutifully taking hold of Laurent’s laptop bag when Laurent turned towards the shelves to rifle through some books.

“Laurent.” He heard his name being uttered and turned around with the book still in his hands. Damen had put down their bags, and stepped forward so they were only a few inches apart.

Laurent made the realization in the back of his head that they were alone in the stacks, it was late into the night and most other students had long retired from the library. And that Damen was coming even closer.

“I confess that I’m not actually that bad at statistics. It’s just the only subject that we both share, even if in different departments, so I can use it as an excuse to spend more time with you. And I can’t pay attention when I’m around you. When you’re sitting close to me, I can’t focus on what we’re studying because I’d much rather look at you. I like you, Laurent. As in, more than friends.” Laurent watched Damen lick his lips, something he did subconsciously when he was nervous. “I know I told you I had a thing for blonds in college and used to chase them around, and I know I joked that I wouldn’t do the same to you. But these past few months, I’ve been happier than I have been in a long time.” Damen’s voice was low and there was a pounding in Laurent’s ears and Laurent swallowed when he realized the sound was coming from his own chest.

 “Damen,” Laurent whispered. There was no point to whisper, they were alone in the library. But Laurent didn’t know what to say. The book he was holding fell from hands onto the floor. 

“I’m not sure if you feel the same way, I mean I hope you do but if you haven’t considered it, I ask that you give me a chance. Let me take you out on a date.” When Laurent didn’t say anything, Damen continued. "Let me take you out to dinner where we can both pretend we’re already full so we save more room for dessert, and then I’ll drive us out to the Cliffs and we can gaze at the stars all night. Give me the chance to bring you breakfast and coffee in the morning, and to knead out the knots in your back after you spend hours sitting hunched over the microscope looking at your slides.”

Laurent knew his eyes were wide as he processed this information. He found Damen attractive, yes, but he had never considered that he would actually ever date while in graduate school. Memories were racing through his head, of the time they won at bar trivia and laughed home the entire time drunkenly wearing their dollar store crowns, or the time Damen surprised him for his birthday with tickets to an Akielon play. He remembered Damen planning with Auguste in secret so his brother could surprise him during a visit. In all the happy memories he had in the last few months, they had all involved Damen. Perhaps they had been dating all along.

“Is that a no?” Damen’s voice was soft, and non-threatening, even as his height towered over Laurent. The waver in his question betrayed his hurt.

“No,” Laurent replied resolutely.

“No,” Damen repeated. “No.” He said it again and processed that answer in his mind. And then his face erupted into a beautiful smile. “So,” his voice dropped low and coy, “you wouldn’t be opposed if I got closer then?” Damen braced his arm against the shelf behind Laurent and leaned down so his face hovered near Laurent’s.

Laurent felt a teasing smile begin to dance at his lips. “No.”

“And you wouldn’t mind if I do this?” Damen whispered as he leaned even closer, his lips stopping a mere few centimeters scant of Laurent’s mouth.

Laurent answered by pressing his lips forward and Damen responded by deepening the kiss. He moved closer until Laurent was pressed against the shelves, and Damen’s large arms were on either side of him. Laurent should have felt trapped in place, but he only felt protected, as Damen explored his mouth in ways that drew out small whimpers from him.

Laurent felt himself getting lightheaded which made no sense because his heart was pounding. Nothing had ever made him feel this way. When they pulled away, all Laurent saw was Damen’s wet, cherry red lips. He felt faint—had they gotten carbon monoxide poisoning?

Damen reached to tuck a strand of Laurent’s hair behind his ear. His voice was a little hoarse when he asked, “Do you still want to go back to your lab?”

Laurent realized he was clutching Damen’s sleeve--when had he grabbed it?—and took a deep breath to calm himself. “The cells can wait.”

 

 

_As children_

Laurent ran through the fields in excitement. He saw a bunny and he wanted it. And Damen said he would get it for him.

Laurent was six years old and he was finally in Ios. Auguste had promised him that they would go visit Damen’s homeland when he was six and it was finally time. It was hot in Ios and Laurent always thought chitons looked weird, but he was wearing one now because it was hot.

But the air smelled like the ocean and the sun was bright and Damen had promised him a bunny.

Damen was twelve and tall and his ‘betrothed’, whatever that was. Laurent just knew that when he wanted something and his father said _no_ , usually Damen would show up and then his father would say _yes_. Even Auguste couldn’t make that happen.

 _Diplomacy_ , his mother said, like that explained everything.

Right now, Auguste was in a boring meeting with Damen’s father, so Damen said he would show Laurent his favorite places. He didn’t show Laurent the library though, so Laurent wondered if it was because the one in Arles was his favorite instead. Damen was always in the Arles library.

“Got it!” Damen shouted, and then ran towards Laurent, his hand holding onto the squirming bunny.

Laurent smiled brightly. “He’s so cute!”

Damen smiled at him. “He is.”

They both stared at the ball of fluff in Damen’s hands, and then Damen asked, “What should we do with him?”

Laurent frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe we should let him go.”

“Okay,” Damen said, and let the bunny go go. It hopped away quickly and they both giggled.

“I’m sorry I made you run around for him,” Laurent said sadly. He saw that Damen’s chiton was soaked with sweat. He sat down on the grass.

Damen pounded his chest. “I can run for a lot longer than that. I said I would be big and strong to protect you, remember?”

Laurent giggled and pulled a wildflower from the grass. “Why would I need you to protect me? I have Auguste, silly.”

“Don’t you like it here? In Ios?” Damen had grabbed his hands tightly. Ow.

Laurent pull his hands away. “Of course! You’re here! And I like your food and the bunnies, and your palace and King Theo lets me pull on his beard. Father doesn’t let me do that.”

“Do you want to live here?” Damen’s eyes were so big.

“Maybe! Kastor says you have big fish that jump out of the water. Maybe if my room in the palace looks at the water.” Laurent frowned. “But then Auguste can’t read me stories and race me on my pony if I’m here. Then Auguste will be sad. I don’t want Auguste to be sad.” Laurent felt his lip tremble.

“Do you want to race me?” Damen asked suddenly.

“Okay!” Laurent stood up and started to run towards the river. If he started first, he won. That’s the secret, Auguste told him. Auguste tells him all the secrets. He was the best.

Laurent ran like the time he and Damen stole the sweetmeats from Kastor’s table and he chased them around like a big ogre. That game was fun.

Laurent got to the river and heard Damen shout but then he fell. And everything hurt.

“Laurent!” Damen sat down in front of him and grabbed him and everything hurt more. Laurent cried more. “Where do you hurt?”

“Everywhere!” Laurent wailed. He sobbed because Damen walked away to eat lunch and left him here and because he was going to die and never see Auguste again and now Damen was leaving, too.

But Damen came back with a cup of water and honey from their lunch. He poured water on Laurent’s leg and his hand and the blood washed away and Laurent stopped crying as much. It still hurt though but maybe Damen was going to give him the honey if he stopped crying.

But instead of eating the honey, Damen put it on his leg and hand and Laurent bit his lip because it hurt so much. He sniffed. Damen wasn’t saying anything. Was he mad?

“Do you hurt anywhere else?” Damen was smiling at him. He doesn’t smile if he’s mad, so he’s not mad. Laurent tried to smile too but his face was wet so he rubbed his face instead.

“Here,” Damen took a cloth and wiped Laurent’s face. “How do you feel?”

“It hurts.” Laurent bit his lip. Auguste wasn’t going to let Laurent come to Ios again. Laurent wanted to cry again.

Damen took his hand and kissed it. And then kissed his leg too. “Kisses make everything better,” Damen said. Laurent giggled. Father did that to mother sometimes.

Damen kissed him on the head too. Laurent laughed. “You missed, silly.” And then he grabbed Damen’s face with two hands and kissed him on the lips. “Mwah,” he said. “That’s how you do it.”

Damen must be so hot in the sun, his face was so red but he was laughing so he was happy. “Yes. I’m sorry, Your Highness.” He pulled Laurent up. “Let’s go home, okay?”

Laurent looked at the palace that was so, so, so far away and looked back to Damen. “Can we play knight and horse?”

“Anything my prince wishes,” Damen said. And picked him up and put him on his back. His arms wrapped Laurent’s legs around him.

Laurent was so tall now. He wrapped his arms around Damen’s neck. He shouted, “Onward, noble steed!”

 

 

_As adults_

It had been a long courtship and Prince Laurent of Vere had finally arrived in Ios.

The Akielons were wild with curiosity at the foreign prince who had stolen the heart of their Crown Prince and committed him to a three-year-long courtship before ever stepping foot on Akielon soil. But the truth of the matter was, it was Damen who decided he needed the time to prove to Laurent that he was sincere and true in his intentions.

Damen arrived in Arles for a diplomatic meeting with his neighbors and lost his breath at the sight of Prince Laurent of Vere who, at the age of eighteen, was respected for his intelligence but renowned for his beauty. Damen decided during the visit that his heart was claimed; he requested an audience with Laurent to attain permission from Laurent himself to court him, and then announced his intentions to the King and Queen of Vere that he would try to win the favor of their son.  

However, princes from ten kingdoms sought to gain Laurent’s hand. To this day Damen was not sure what led the young Veretian Prince to accept his gift of a young chestnut mare instead of returning it like all the other courtship gifts he received from his suitors.

(Years later, Damen brought it up as they lay beside each other naked in bed. “Because you asked me for permission before you asked the King and Queen,” Laurent murmured sleepily and nuzzled his face against Damen’s chest.)

Once Laurent had accepted his ‘token’, Damen spent weeks in Arles, officially dealing with political affairs and unofficially going on outings with Laurent. As he was yet to be of age, Auguste accompanied them on more trips than not, but it was not unpleasant. Damen didn’t care that they had yet to kiss, let alone touch.

He learned that Laurent preferred to go riding either early in the morning, or late in the afternoon, and that he preferred oranges to apples, and that Laurent could actually beat him at a Veretian strategy game while blindfolded. He figured out what made Laurent smile, and what made Laurent laugh, and how Laurent looked at Auguste as if he could pluck the stars from the sky and Damen yearned for the day when he could earn the same look.

When Damen was needed back in Ios, they traded books and letters instead. Damen told Laurent about the time he and Nikandros disguised themselves as common soldiers to teach the village boys sword fighting, and Laurent sent him his favorite childhood story—about the archer who shot down nine suns to save the world when it was a blazing inferno and then descended from his winged horse into the arms of his lover. “I cannot remove the sun from our skies, but so long as I am able, I will shield you from its harsh light,” Damen wrote back.

For Laurent’s coming-of-age ceremony, Damen could not attend because it was close to the Vernal Equinox, but he sent him twin daggers with a note that said, “For the times when I cannot protect you. May that never be.”

Damen could not believe that after so many years, Laurent was sitting beside him on the dais as they dined and watched sports. Laurent appeared to become more beautiful every time Damen left him, and every new meeting took his breath away. He would never forget the smile Laurent gave him when he showed up in a chiton and Damen dropped a pitcher. But the good mood was broken when he heard Kastor shouting belligerently after too much wine that princes who could only read and play board games was no prince fit for Akielos.

Damen moved to silence his brother, but Laurent grabbed his hand and Damen froze. This was not the first time they had touched, but even those moments were few and spread out. “Let me handle it,” Laurent said.

Laurent stood up and the people around them quieted. They all wanted to hear what the Veretian prince would say.

“I understand Prince Kastor’s concern,” Laurent said with a light voice, “And I seek to ease all worries that I may not be a suitable consort to Prince Damianos,”—the way his name rolled off Laurent’s tongue sent shivers down Damen’s spine—“by participating in the sports. I seek to ride in the _okton_.”

The crowds erupted in shouting. Some immediately objected—a prince, even if not their Crown Prince’s intended, dying in Akielos during one of the tournaments would be deeply unsettling. Others looked excited, Prince Laurent of Vere was well-known for his skill at riding. 

Theomedes raised a hand and quieted the crowds. He looked to Damen and Damen knew it was his decision. Damen turned to Laurent, and gave him an asking look, _Are you sure?_

Laurent responded with a curt look. _Do you not trust me?_

“He will ride,” Damen announced, and the crowds interrupted into cheers that did little to calm the nerves in his stomach.

It seemed Laurent was determined to unsettle him, as he showed up leading a horse with a caparison bearing the Veretian royal crest but on a field of blood-red—the color of Damianos’ banners. When Laurent chose the spears tipped in red, the same ones Damen had used yesterday, there was no mistaking his declaration.

Theomedes stroked his beard, “If he does not fall off his horse, I will consider this display a success.”

“You may be surprised, father.” Damen had ridden with Laurent and hunted with him. He knew that although Laurent was more of a scholar than a fighter, he could definitely hold his own. But the _okton_ was the sport of kings and Laurent had reminded him time and again that he had no intention of becoming king. So despite Damen’s confident words to his father, Damen couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in his stomach. Anything could happen during the _okton_.

But Laurent existed to defy his expectations, and so for the second day in a row—after Damen’s win—the crowds witnessed another perfect score. The masses were wild with excitement that this blonde foreigner had not only survived the sport, but pulled a feat only their own Crown Prince had managed.

Damen didn’t miss the look of disbelief on Kastor’s face, nor the impressed one on his father. He knew Laurent had earned the respect of his father and that was a feat not easily done—but this was Laurent, so how could Damen have ever thought otherwise.

Laurent was slowly trotting his horse towards the royal dais and Damen descended from it in a hurry. His blood was still racing at what he had witnessed, the thrill of the game a fresh memory, and now the beauty and athletic skill of his beloved was revealed to his kingdom.

Laurent stopped his horse when the chestnut mare bumped her warm nose against Damen’s chest. She was tired after the hard ride, and Damen gave her a comforting rub on the neck.

“Will you ever stop surprising me, Laurent?” Damen asked, and he knew he could do little to hide the reverence in his voice.

“It is only because you think so little of me.” Laurent’s voice was mocking but his eyes were dancing with mirth. “And because you are too easy to read. May you never be the one to surprise _me_?”

“Is that what you think?” Damen bemused. “Come down from that horse.”

With a flicker of amusement at the imperious command, Laurent dismounted gracefully and leapt for the ground. Except Damen had moved, and so Laurent found himself, quite literally, in the arms of Damen.

Damen shifted his grip, so one hand supported Laurent’s bottom, and his other arm wrapped around the younger man, holding him close, supporting the back of Laurent’s head, fingers brushing against blonde locks. Instinctively, Laurent moved to lift one leg to squeeze against Damen's side in an attempt to support himself; his other leg dangled free. His arms found themselves resting on Damen’s shoulders, his hands curled around Damen’s neck. Damen had Laurent lifted high, so Laurent's face hovered above him.

Laurent definitely had a look of shock on his face. Damen could feel Laurent’s pulse pounding against his neck and he could feel his own heart want to leap out from his chest. “Surprise,” Damen whispered and pressed their lips together into their first kiss.

It began as a chaste kiss, but the blood in their veins was still chasing the thrill and the kiss deepened. Their tongues danced in each other’s mouth, and Damen felt like he was drowning, he could no longer breathe because Laurent was there to consume him, heart and soul. Laurent's hands were framing Damen's face, tightly, keeping their mouths together. Damen let out a groan as Laurent gave his lower lip a gentle tug with his teeth and Damen squeezed him ever close, including the hand that was fitted against Laurent's arse. Laurent tightened his body around Damen, trying to eliminate any space that still remained between them, and Damen chased back his mouth with fervor.

If the crowds were roaring behind him, Damen didn’t notice because at that moment, he had Laurent in his arms and nothing ever felt more right.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Cynthia](http://americancupsofbritishtea.tumblr.com/) prompted [me](http://sarabelium.tumblr.com/) for a first kiss ficlet. And of course I don't have any self-control, so I came up with five. Which one was your favorite?
> 
> If you were wondering what happens after this exchange:   
> “So I’m guessing you won’t be arresting me for assault,” Laurent observed.  
> Damen leaned against the back of his seat, casual and confident. He smirked, “I can cuff you for something else if you’d prefer.”  
> There is now a porny coda for you all to enjoy, courtesy of Cynthia. (Go read it! IT'S AMAZING!!!!)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Acquaintances](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8591212) by [dawnofthursday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnofthursday/pseuds/dawnofthursday)




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